used to be one
by unravel
Summary: Alternate reality version of the night Quinn lost her virginity. One shot.


**Author's Note:** This is an alternate version of Quinn losing her virginity, since it was written before the last episode of season one aired. Also, the title comes from the song Anthem For a Seventeen Year Old Girl by Broken Social Scene. The full lyric is: _Used to be one of the rotten ones and he liked you for that/Now you're all gone got your make-up on and you're not coming back/Can't you come back? _Enjoy!

* * *

I went over to his house because we were supposed to work on a project for English. That was supposed to be it. I hadn't been to his house in a while, like, since before the beginning of the summer but he invited me over to work on the project. We weren't even supposed to be partners but Santana bailed to be partners with Brittany at the last second. She was supposed to be partners with him. So, by default, I got stuck with him. I go straight to his house after Cheerios practice, bringing only the books I need inside with me. When he opens the door, he's wearing a wife beater and jeans and he looks typical and I want to hate him for it.

"Hey, mama." I roll my eyes at him, pushing past to walk into his house. It looks like same.

"Can we just get this over with? Please?" I turn, the skirt of my uniform flaring out at my hips before fluttering back to my thighs. He stares. He shrugs.

"Sure, whatever." I set the books down at the kitchen table with a thud. I want him to know I mean business.

"Where's your family?" He shrugs again, uncaring.

"Hell if I know."

"Well, that's… great." He doesn't answer. I open my book. We're supposed to analyze a scene from Romeo and Juliet and give a presentation about it. We were assigned the scene were Romeo and Juliet first meet. I start to work, showing him my notes that I've already done. I know he's not going to do any work, anyway. He stares at it complacently. He's chewing gum. I don't watch his mouth, trying not to be distracted. When I ask him a question he looks at me for a long moment.

"Do you want a drink or something?"

"What? Puck, I don't—" But he's already up and walking to the fridge. I watch him, frustrated.

"I don't get all this Shakespeare shit." His head is stuck in the fridge and it sounds muffled. There is a clinking of glass and suddenly he's straightening up, holding up a pack of glass bottles. I squint my eyes.

"Puck, are those wine coolers?" I raise my eyebrows at him. If he was going to pull out alcohol I would've at least expected a beer or something. He looks at them and then back at me.

"I dunno, it's all my mom buys anymore." He walks back to the table and sets the bottles down in between us with a clunk. I don't flinch. Nothing makes me flinch anymore. But he sits back down, opens a bottle and sets it in front of me. "You still drink, Fabray?" He raises an eyebrow at me and I look back down at my notes.

"I just want to get this over with…" I look back up slowly but he has not followed my lead. He's sipping from a bottle and, not to be outdone, I take a sip of the one he has opened for me.

"I'll take that as a yes, you do still drink." He's teasing me and I don't like it. I go back to my notes but he wants me to fight back. So I appease him.

"Finn and I drink all the time." I look up at him, glaring. He thinks he knows me and he doesn't. He doesn't at all. He has this look of mild disbelief.

"Really? Do you guys, like, fool around?" I feel my face get hot.

"You know the answer to that. Finn tells you everything." He was kicked back, practically falling out of his chair but he leans forward now, putting all four legs of the chair on the floor.

"I guess. But you don't tell him everything." I stop writing.

"What is that supposed to mean, Puck?" He's laughing now and I feel like it's at me. I don't like him laughing at me. He leans back in his chair, running a hand over his stupid mohwak.

"Quinn, come on. I know you haven't told him." He looks at me to see if I'm paying attention. I stare at him blankly. I've developed an excellent poker face he hasn't seen yet. He leans forward and our faces are very close together. "I know you haven't told him about when we used to fool around. You know, before you got into all this Christ Crusaders stuff." My face is hot again and it ruins everything. He leans back again, chugging his wine cooler.

"Why does it matter if I haven't told him? I'd very much like to pretend all of that didn't happen and I've almost gotten to the point where I can do that." He looks mildly hurt by this but it quickly turns back into that smug look.

"Come on, I know you don't want to forget about it." As if to make a point, I take a few gulps from my own drink and set it back down on the table with force.

"Oh please, you don't know the first thing about me." I still have my pencil in my hand but somehow I know we've gone past the point of no return. This project will not get done today. Puck opens another bottle but doesn't take a drink yet. I sense he's waiting for me to finish mine so I do. He opens another one for me.

"So, you and Finn. You like, love each other?" He's changing the subject, thankfully. He takes a drink and so do I.

"What kind of question is that?"

"Well, do you?"

"Maybe…" I look back down and curse myself for not being stronger, not being able to look him in the eye. I've done so very well at blocking all these memories that are suddenly flooding back to me. I look at the bottle and realize these are the same fruity things we used to sneak out to his backyard and sit on a picnic blanket and drink. I look up finally and he is studying me. "What?"

"Quinn… Come on. You can't tell me you want to forget about that summer." I stare at him and I'm able to hold it with conviction because yes in fact, I do want to forget that summer. The summer I thought I'd actually broken through, got him to give a damn about someone besides himself. I take a lesson from him and chug the rest of my drink. He opens another one for me. Enabler. My head is swimming already. But I want not be able to held responsible for what I'll say if he stays on this subject. I haven't answered him, so he says my name. "Quinn…"

"No. Stop it." I take a sip of my new drink and don't look at him. "Why wouldn't I want to forget about that summer, Puck? You lied to me. You fed me all those lies and I… believed them! I was so stupid!" He's staring at me with that look but I know behind it I'm getting to him. "I thought I'd, like, changed you or some romantic shit like that. And the second I don't want to… sleep with you, you drop me. Like a brick." I haven't cursed in a very long time and it takes a lot for me to refrain from using anymore curse words. I tug at the top of my uniform, running a hand over my stomach. Coach Sylvester made us hold the pyramid for as long as possible today and they dropped me. She told me to lose weight. But I push this to the back of my mind. There's too much to think about right now. Stupid wine coolers. I look back up at him. "Well? Say something!" He kind of jumps a little at the forcefulness in my voice.

"Geez, Q, I dunno… I'm a dude." I glare at him, rolling my eyes. I drink the last of my third wine cooler and set it down on the table.

"Whatever. I'll just text you about the presentation. I can't be here anymore." I stand up, gathering my things as he protests.

"No.. hey, Q… Quinn!" I'm walking towards the front door and he follows me. His hand catches the nook of my elbow and he spins me around. I almost drop my books.

"Don't touch me, Puck." I glare at him. If he's stopped me, he better have something to say. I wait. He looks at me for a long time, frustrated.

"Just… God, Quinn, I don't know." I roll my eyes for what seems like the hundredth time and start to turn away for the door again. He grabs both of my forearms, keeping me facing towards him.

"I told you –"

"Quinn, just…" And he kisses me, a little bit rougher than he probably should. I can't push him away without dropping my books and he's holding me, pulling me towards him. And the wine coolers kick in and I kiss him back because it feels like last summer and I feel that feeling that I described to my sister, that weird kind of love that you don't really recognize.

Before I know it, he's pulling the books from my hands and I don't protest and he's pulling me down onto his couch and I don't fight him. "Your… mom…." I try to get my words out around his lips. He pulls away for a moment and with a tug he's pulled my ponytail holder out and my hair falls around my face and into my eyes.

"She's working the late shift." His lips meet mine again and he pulls one of my legs over his lap, running a hand up my thigh. My brow furrows with worry and I pull away a little bit but his lips just follow me.

"Puck…" He kisses down my neck and his hand slides farther up my thigh and I tense up. I reach for his hand, trying to brush it away. "I don't…" But something inside of me shakes loose and it's like the regretful girl I was last summer is getting what she wished for. She's getting him back.

"You're so hot, you know that? You're like… the hottest girl at McKinley…" I try to ignore what he's saying because I know he doesn't mean it, that he says this to every girl he's done these exact things to on this exact couch but a part of me wants to hear it. I feel a jab of selfishness in my gut and I think of Finn but then Puck's hands are sliding up the front of my uniform before I can stop him and his hands are under my bra and on my breasts and I raise my arms without hesitation and let him push my shirt over my head and toss it beside the couch. I fall against him helplessly as he effortlessly unclasps my bra, my hands on the back of his neck and before I know it my bra is beside my uniform top and I'm falling back onto the couch, one of my legs still draped over his lap. This huge fear starts to grip me when I realize he's pulling his shirt off and I don't even notice that I'm covering my chest with my hands.

After he's gotten his shirt off, he leans over me and we're kissing again and his hand is back inside my thigh. I feel dizzy and I can't tell if it's from the alcohol or the subconscious knowledge that we aren't going to turn back now. I kick my shoes off and he tugs my Cheerios skirt down and over my knees and tosses it aside. I'm practically naked and almost shivering despite myself. He's leaning over me again and he looks me up and down.

"You and Finn… You guys didn't…" He doesn't say it and the silence hangs heavy in the air. I shake my head slightly, looking up with him and I sure I look like some sort of frightened animal.

"No… no." He looks kind of pleased and kisses me again, messing with his belt buckle. When he pulls away again, he's pushed his jeans down to his knees and there's some awkward positioning as he tries to kick them off without lying directly on top of me. Eventually he gets it and he's hooking his thumbs into the elastic of my panties. I'm breathing very heavily. He gives me a look. "You okay?" I look up at him, strained. I don't know what to say because I don't know whether to say yes or no so I don't say anything. He kisses me. "You're so hot…" I bring my hands up to his face for the first time and he uses this opportunity to slide my panties down my thighs in one quick motion. I inhale quickly, as if it hurts.

"Puck…" But I know it's too late. Nothing I say is going to do anything because I know it's going to happen and I want it to happen because for a while I wished it had, that I hadn't said no when he'd asked me the first time. He doesn't even let me say anything else.

"Remember that time when we made out in your car in the parking lot in front of the baseball field and I ate you out? Do you remember that?" I cringe a little and he keeps kissing me. He makes everything sound so vile and so wonderful at the same time. He's pushing down his boxers. I close my eyes and he's leaning back over me. He puts a hand on the back of my neck and I look up at him, frightened and desperate. I think he's going to say something else but thankfully he doesn't. I want him to stop talking. If this is going to happen, then I want it to happen. No more talking. One of my legs has fallen off the couch and he leaves it there and I wrap my arms up under his shoulders, my hands against his back and I press my face into the crook of his neck. I close my eyes very tight. I can hear him breathing in my ear. And it happens.

His breath is very hot against my ear and my neck and my cheek and I keep my face in the crook of his neck. I feel him slide a hand under my head, his fingers in my hair. He's going slow and I bite my lip and let out a moan despite myself. This seems to encourage him almost and he goes faster. I feel dizzy again and almost don't hear him in my ear his voice is so low. "Tell me… tell me if I'm hurting you, Quinn." Courageously, I pull myself away from his neck and my hands slide to rest against his chest. I don't push, my hands just… rest there. We lock eyes.

"Puck…" His name comes out in a moan and I don't mean it to. It hangs in the air oddly because I haven't said his name like that in a while and when I'm looking up at him I know he knows that too. The next time it slips out and I don't even think about it. "Oh… Puck…." He's looking down at me with a very strange look and for a moment he's a stranger because I've never seen him look like this before. I was right that he didn't know anything about me, but I realize I don't have him entirely figured out, either. I don't know how long we continue like this but soon his hand in my hair grips, clutches and he looks down at me with his eyebrows all scrunched up and my hands are around his neck now and for the first time he says my name like I said his earlier. "Quinn… oh…" I inhale a little, sharply and before I know it we're trying to position ourselves next to each other on this small couch. It's over. We both lie on our sides and he puts his hand on the small of my back and for a moment I imagine that we're in love. That maybe he's Finn. But that thought is quick and I don't pay attention to it because the wine coolers are wearing off and something very heavy is settling in my stomach.

"I should go…" I get dressed very quickly, trying to put my hair back into its previous ponytail, how it was before he ruined it. He doesn't protest, just pulls his boxers on. I pick up my books and look at him. My head it suddenly quite clear. The rock in my stomach is fully formed. I realize the gravity of what just happened. I don't even know what to say to him now. "…Bye."

I must look ridiculous, like a child, rushing out like this, running away. "Are you, like, okay to drive? Do you want me to drive you home?" I shake my head, gathering my mouth very tensely.

"No. I'm fine." And I'm walking out the door that he's opened for me and I'm getting into my car and not letting myself cry. I fight it. I fight it until I get about halfway home and I have to pull over onto the side of the road because I can't see where I'm going anymore because I'm crying too hard. I realized we forgot a condom.


End file.
